“If you dig us out here, how long will it be
before we go in again?” This they did not know.

“Then had not the driver better go to St. Cloud
with both horses? The horse left here would be
ruined standing in that slush.”

“But, madam,” said the agent, “if
we do that we will have to leave you here all night.”

“Well,” I said, “I do not see how
you are going to get rid of me.”

So the driver started with the two horses on that
dreadful journey; had I known how dreadful, I should
have tried to keep him till morning. As he left,
I made the Germans draw off their boots and pour out
the water, rub their chilled feet and roll them up
in a buffalo robe. The agent lay on his box,
I cuddled in a corner, and we all went to sleep to
the music of the patter of the soft rain on our canvas
cover. At sunrise we were waked by a little army
of men and horses and another schooner, into which
we passed by bridge. We reached St. Cloud in time
for breakfast, and were greeted by the news that General
Lowrie had been sent home insane. He was confined
in his own house, and his much envied young wife,
with her two babies, had become an object of pity.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

THE ARISTOCRACY OF THE WEST.

Before going to Minnesota, I had the common Cooper
idea of the dignity and glory of the noble red man
of the forest; and was especially impressed by his
unexampled faithfulness to those pale-faces who had
ever been so fortunate as to eat salt with him.
In planning my hermitage, I had pictured the most
amicable relations with those unsophisticated children
of nature, who should never want for salt while there
was a spoonful in my barrel. I should win them
to friendships as I had done railroad laborers, by
caring for their sick children, and aiding their wives.
Indeed, I think the Indians formed a large part of
the attractions of my cabin by the lakes; and it required
considerable time and experience to bring me to any
true knowledge of the situation, which was, and is,
this:

Between the Indian and white settler, rages the world-old,
world-wide war of hereditary land-ownership against
those who beg their brother man for leave to live
and toil. William Penn disclaimed the right of
conquest as a land title, while he himself held an
English estate based on that title, and while every
acre of land on the globe was held by it. He
could not recognize that title in English hands, but
did in the hands of Indians, and while pretending
to purchase of them a conquest title, perpetrated
one of the greatest swindles on record since that by
which Jacob won the birthright of his starving brother.